


pillowtalk

by kaaogami (ghoulnoace)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: But not my usual detailed smut, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulnoace/pseuds/kaaogami
Summary: They’ve slept together multiple times on Taiga’s bed. Actually sleep-sleepingon it shouldn’t be a problem.Right?Right.
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga
Comments: 10
Kudos: 158





	pillowtalk

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things:
> 
> *To those who aren't familiar with the dude Asahina, he's a canon character. He's a first-year in Seirin, as shown in EXTRA GAME, meaning AoKaga are second years (going on third) here.  
>   
> *I haven't written anything substantial for more than a year, so I'm rusty with this fic business. Even this fic I had sitting on my Docs for a year, so my rustiness may be evident towards the ending.  
>   
> *Hope folks still enjoy this though! :DDD

The practice match had gone well into the evening.

It _was_ supposed to be best-of-three and _should_ have ended when Touou trounced them soundly, 2-0, but Aomine, as was his wont, had opened his big fat mouth and rubbed their victory with childish glee in Taiga’s face, and Asahina, who hadn’t been exposed to Aomine’s brand of pre-Winter Cup assholiness from last year and thought _this_ was Aomine being arrogantly rude, naturally took offense.

The well-meaning Asahina had went up to Aomine and demanded a rematch, Aomine had responded with a raised brow and a smirk and a sly _‘Oh-hoh? Got yourself a fan here, Kagami? You any good, brat?’,_ and before Taiga knew it, they were playing a third game (Touou won again, but only just barely, and so Asahina said — well within Aomine’s earshot, no less — that that win was just a fluke, _obviously_ , we almost had that game, right Kagami-senpai?) and then another (Seirin finally won that round, and Aomine was _not pleased_ so of course they had to play again), and _yet another_ (which both coaches had to cut after just seven minutes because more than half the players were a second away from collapsing right beside Kuroko on the floor).

Which is why it’s well past ten o’clock when he and Aomine trudge past Taiga’s apartment door, sweaty and tired, arms laden with takeout bags from Maji and bodies feeling like one giant bruise.

“This is totally your fault, Aho,” he says with no small amount of irritation. His calf had cramped badly during the fourth game earlier, and even now his knees feel wobbly, like he’ll fall flat on his face or flat on his ass if he steps wrongly. He’s not quite sure which will be less embarrassing.

Aomine snorts, wincing a bit as he bends forward to nudge his discarded shoes besides Taiga’s (small miracles; only took him a couple of months to get _that_ right). “It’s that first-year’s fault, more like. Where does he get off challenging me like that? He obviously had to be shown who was the top dog there.”

 _“Puh-lease,_ ” Taiga says as he leads the way to the living room, making sure Aomine can _hear_ him roll his eyes. “You were all giddy inside ‘cause the brat had the guts to tell you where to shove your arrogant mug _and_ the skill to back it up.”

Aomine only deigns to reply when he has plopped down on the kotatsu, stretched his legs out, and had bitten through his burger. “Y’ight. Sh’kid was at least amusin’.” He swallows, grins. “Not like the time when _you_ challenged me the first time and I wiped the court with your ass. Good times.”

 _"You_ were the one who challenged me out of nowhere and you know it,” Taiga says as he rounds the kitchen counter. The only reason the pitcher of ice-cold water stays in his hand and isn’t dripping down Aomine’s back is because Taiga knows _he_ would be cleaning the mess up after. Not worth it.

“And besides,” he adds as he lowers himself gingerly in front of Aomine, _“I_ did the court-wiping in the end.”

“Eh. Hardly any wiping involved, when you were only up one point _and_ it took you three tries to win. But if it makes you sleep better at night…”

“Shut the fuck up and eat your damn food before I eat them all,” Taiga growls before biting a huge chunk off his own burger, half as a threat and half as a demonstration (not that anyone who knows him needs one though).

Aomine laughs, and— _oh._ Taiga’s glad for his mouthful of tomatoes, cheese, and meat, because otherwise he would have been gaping dopily at the still-novel sound of Aomine’s genuine laughter (even if said laughter was at Taiga’s expense).

Taiga wouldn’t have been able to stop the reaction. It’s not his fault that that sound has very easily become one of his favorite sounds. It’s right up there with the clang of the hoop as the ball goes in, the sizzling of meat on the pan, the slamming of waves against the shore, the high and needy moans against his ear when their bodies come together, the slowly-becoming-frequent times Aomine calls him Taiga, and the couple of times when he’s told him —

“Aye sir,” Aomine says, holding up his burger in a cheeky mock salute, “eating now, sir, Mr. Kagami I-Have-A-Bottomless-Pit-For-A-Stomach Taiga, sir.”

— well, not _that._

They go through the rest of the takeout with a speed that would put even Murasakibara to shame, and Aomine tells him in between bites about every flaw he saw and exploited with Seirin’s current lineup, and how the other members’ skills are still not up to par with Taiga’s, let alone _his_. Taiga is torn between licking the teriyaki sauce off Aomine’s upper lip and shoving the last of his burger down Aomine’s throat. He manages to avoid doing the first because Aomine beats him to it (the bastard) and the latter because the shit he’s spouting are actually insightful and useful. Taiga’s definitely gonna share some points with Coach, though he probably should leave out the cursing and the unflattering (though frankly hilarious) descriptions of Asahina’s face.

When they’ve cleaned up the table, they decide to shower at the same time. To, y’know, save water and all that jazz. Except they end up wasting _more_ water when Aomine shoves him against the tile wall while he’s rinsing his hair and sucks his soul through his dick. Taiga then very happily returns the favor after he’s gotten air back to his lungs, and all the while the shower continues to spray hot water down their backs.

It’s nearly midnight when they make it back out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, clad in their boxers with towels slung around their necks to catch errant drops from their dripping hair. With a yawn, Taiga heads straight to the kitchen, back to the fridge as he chugs half a liter of water and watches Aomine drop to the rug by the couch and rummage around his bag for a clean set of clothes to wear home.

_To wear home._

That thought doesn’t quite sit right with Taiga. It maybe has something to do with the tiredness quickly seeping deeper into his bones, the same tiredness echoed by the hunch of Aomine’s shoulders and the heavy droop of Aomine’s eyes as he mumbles something about wayward shirts being little shits. It definitely has something to do with how Taiga very much does not want Aomine to _go home._ What Taiga wants is to pull Aomine to bed with him tonight. Not even to fuck, but just... to have _there._ It’s not a new need. This need to end the day together, then to start a new one still beside each other, where Taiga can kiss Aomine awake in the morning and have him complain about Taiga’s foul-as-hell breath. 

He has no doubt Aomine would whine and protest all the way, but he also can’t help but think that that would just be the perfect start to a perfect day.

No, it’s not a new thought. But it’s always been just that — a thought. Right now, though, he’s feeling too exhausted to keep it in like how he usually does at nights like these.

And so — “You could just stay here tonight. The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

Aomine stops in his grumbling and rummaging and shoots Taiga a look that isn’t so much startled as it is... something else. Hesitant? Cautious? Not outright negative or aggressive, at least?

“Won’t it be uncomfortable?” Aomine asks.

“No? Like I said, there’s enough space on the bed.”

“Do you snore?” Aomine asks.

“No, I don’t _—_ ”

“I might, ‘cause I’m tired as hell,” Aomine says.

“Okay? I don’t mind — ”

“I hog the blankets,” Aomine says after a brief pause.

Taiga very carefully makes his way towards the living room, watching Aomine watch him with a steady gaze. “That’s fine, I don’t get cold much,” he says, which is true. Tatsuya called him a human furnace once.

“I can get... rowdy in bed.”

“Oh, believe me, _I know._ ”

“Shut your mouth. Not like that.”

“I really don’t mind, Aomine.”

Aomine drops his stare after what feels like hours but is really just a minute, and makes a noncommittal sound towards the rumpled shirt he has finally unearthed from his bag, and Taiga...

Well, he’s thinking about searching for a time machine (maybe there’s one under the kotatsu?) and rewinding to a few minutes back before he invited Aomine to stay the night, or maybe to this afternoon before the practice match so he could tie Asahina up and lock him someplace where he can’t challenge Aomine to his face again and again — or maybe to a few months back, to before he fell irrevocably in love with Aomine Daiki, or —

He’s being uncharacteristically melodramatic and Kise would be so proud.

Just... just what the hell is with this atmosphere? Was what he asked so... weird? It’s not like he hasn’t had Aomine in his bed before. Okay, so that didn’t involve much _sleeping_ -sleeping, but is actual sleeping next to each other any weirder than fucking each other’s asses on said bed? Not that it’s _weird,_ having sex with Aomine. Far from it. Sex with Aomine is great and amazing and all the other feel-good adjectives his sleepy brain can’t come up with right now.

Aomine had dropped by plenty of times over the last few months, but after eating, a pick-up game out in the courts, and a round or two of sex, there’d always be time left to catch the last train that there hadn’t been a good enough reason to stay overnight. Oh, Taiga can think of plenty of reasons to ask Aomine to stay, but in all that time together, he hadn’t once caught any signs that Aomine _wanted_ to be asked. So he hadn’t.

Taiga had always figured it was one of those Japanese things he was just so helplessly clueless about. That inviting your girlfriend — or in this case, your boyfriend of close to a year — to stay the night at your home, _beside_ you, is not something you do until your tenth anniversary, with both of your parents’ permission. But now... maybe... Aomine just didn’t want to sleep- _sleep_ with him? That maybe sleep- _fucking_ is all he’d ever wanted to sign up for?

He squashes the thought before it can take root, remembering the times they’ve both said... _stuff_ to each other; stuff that had the L word in them (as in _'like',_ not the other one just yet). And the thing is, everyone and their mother knows that Aomine isn’t a very good liar. In fact, he’s very, very bad at it. Most importantly, Taiga knows all too well how Aomine looks like when he’s cold and _doesn’t_ care. And the Aomine who’d tell Taiga he likes him, his cheeks ruddy with heat and eyes blazing, looked anything but the Aomine of the past, the one who stood alone on the court full of players believing that no one can beat him.

Taiga knows this. And now that he’s asked, he also knows that though Aomine likes him, something is still holding him back.

“Look,” Taiga says, rubbing at his neck in restlessness, “it’s fine — I can take the couch. But it’s late, so you should just st— ”

“I’m taking the wall side,” Aomine says through the loose muscle shirt he’s wrestling over his head, and Taiga gets horribly distracted with mourning the loss of all those lean muscles that he takes a second longer to reply.

“...Um, what?”

“The bed? I’ll take the wall side, you take the side where the monster under can grab you?”

“There’s no monster —” Aomine gives him a very pointed look “— Okay. Sure. Yeah, no problem.” 

Aomine huffs and stands in one smooth, sinuous movement that Taiga can maybe only do in his dreams. “You sure you’re not already half-asleep?” he asks as he rounds the couch and approaches on silent feet, and it’s only when he’s close enough to touch that Taiga notices the slight upward quirk of his mouth, one that he only knows to call _fond_ because he’d seen it aimed enough times at Kuroko and Momoi (and even Kuroko’s damn dog).

Taiga feels giddy. He wants to reach out and kiss Aomine. It takes him an embarrassingly long moment to remember that he _can_ because they’re frigging _boyfriends,_ and when he _does,_ it feels like the first time, and will he ever get used to the way Aomine _always_ sighs at the first contact? How he tilts his head and leans into him like he can get any closer still? And how the gentleness and the softness gives way to urgency and plain _want_ with every press of their mouths?

He knows he won’t. 

“Bed?” Aomine asks when he’s done turning Taiga’s knees to jelly again.

Taiga nods, except they don’t quite make it to the bed. Barely a step into the room and Aomine’s pushing him against the wall, tongue slipping past his and hands scrambling to pull down both of their boxers. They’ve just cum, but they’re young, hot-blooded men with high levels of energy and libido, and it takes less than a moment to get them both hard again. 

It’s frantic, their movements towards fulfillment, the pace of their fists over each other’s cocks, their lips and tongue and teeth on each other’s skin; too quick to really savor the heat and the nearness of Aomine’s body pressed against his. But it’s enough. It’s good.

It’s even better because after they cum, Aomine is pulling away not to leave and go home, only to shimmy back into his underwear and flop on the bed. Already Taiga sees Aomine striving to blink through his second post-orgasm haze.

“You just gonna stand there, Kagami?” Aomine mumbles, eyes heavy-lidded and quietly inviting. 

_Nope,_ Taiga thinks to himself, scrambling to lie down while righting his shirt and boxers. He’s not wasting another moment just standing around like an idiot. Not when he finally has Aomine waiting for him in his bed like this, bathed in the moonlight from the window, all sleepy and soft-looking like Taiga has never seen him before.

There’s a brief scuffle as they fight over the fluffiest pillow and shuffle under the blanket, trying not to strangle themselves on the linen. They do eventually settle, he on his back and Aomine on his side by the wall, his back towards Taiga. 

The bed _is_ big enough to fit them both, but only just barely. Still, Aomine manages to create some space between them, and though Taiga is tempted to reach out and close that distance—be the big spoon to Aomine’s little spoon, so to speak—he figures this is enough for tonight. _Baby steps,_ he thinks, watching as the tense line of Aomine’s shoulders relaxes slowly with each breath. 

“‘Night, Aomine.” 

He doesn’t expect a reply, but he does get one, said in a whisper almost a minute later when Taiga is a couple of blinks away from sleep, “Just don't push me away. I'll punch you.”

Taiga tries really, really hard to make sense of that through his already-dozy brain. “Push? Y’mean off’da bed? How can I? You’re not da’one on the edge of — ”

 _“‘Night,_ Bakagami,” Aomine says, managing to convey his petulance perfectly even through his own groggy voice, and Taiga snorts at that, the quirk of his mouth slipping to a smile as he finally drifts off to sleep.

**

Except Taiga doesn’t stay asleep for long.

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour after Aomine drifted off that Aomine has done all the things he warned Taiga about earlier. He snored, hogged the blankets, and moved around. A lot. But that was fine, really. Taiga meant it when he said he didn’t mind Aomine being… rowdy in bed. That isn’t the problem. 

The problem is that Aomine is doing all of those things so, _so close_ to Taiga’s now very-much-awake person. Aomine’s hair is inside Taiga’s mouth and up his nose, Aomine’s chin is digging through his shoulder, and half of Aomine’s body is thrown over Taiga’s own, an arm and leg wrapped around Taiga like he’s a prey on a chokehold by a very clingy boa constrictor. They’re pressed as close as they can get in this position, and Taiga can _feel_ all of Aomine. 

It’s highly uncomfortable. Taiga’s starting to lose feeling on the arm Aomine’s unknowingly lying on, and is that _drool_ he can feel dripping down his neck? 

He shudders. Yup, that’s drool.

With a quiet sigh, Taiga places a hand — the one not being slowly cut of its circulation — on Aomine’s shoulder, intending to push him away. But even asleep, Aomine's a solid block of lean muscle, and he stubbornly resists the pressure. Taiga grumbles, lifting his head a little and seeing that Aomine's brows have furrowed and his mouth has pulled down into a frown.

Taiga pushes harder, but Aomine whines at that, and then Aomine's pressing against him even closer still, his arm tightening around Taiga's waist. He mumbles, still deep in sleep, _"…_ don'… push... _stay._ " And then Taiga remembers all too clearly that whispered statement before he dozed off. 

"Oh," Taiga breathes out through a chest that suddenly seems a little too tight.

All of his ire drops away with that quiet rush of air, and as if sensing that his human pillow has surrendered the good fight, Aomine relaxes as well, sprawling over Taiga all loose-limbed and sated, his hand splayed over Taiga's chest like a grounding weight. Just like a cat napping on a warm spot by the window, favorite toy finally caught under its paws.

 _Animal instincts indeed,_ Taiga can't help but think, amused now and just the slightest bit fond.

Taiga settles back on the bed, trying to move his right arm into a more comfortable position without jarring Aomine too much. Everytime he does, Aomine goes all tense and clingy and makes low sounds of protest in his throat again, like he's expecting Taiga will pull away again. Taiga won't, though, not anymore. The closeness he was so irritated at earlier he now mind-bogglingly finds adorable, so he stays on his back and contents himself with playing with the surprisingly soft strands of Aomine's hair at his nape.

 _This isn't so bad,_ Taiga thinks, being enveloped in another body— _Aomine's_ body—so close like this. He can get used to this.

He has almost nodded off when he feels Aomine shift again, this time to drop his hand to the jut of Taiga's left hip. He twitches from the touch, but the sensation quickly turns into a whole-body shiver as Aomine buries his face along the slope of Taiga's neck, his lips warm and wet as he murmurs something garbled.

For the second time that night, Taiga is brought to full and abrupt wakefulness, only now it's with a gasp as Aomine proceeds to mouth at his throat and trace the skin just below the elastic of his boxers. Two spots Aomine _knows_ makes Taiga a little weak and a lot turned on.

"Mmm, _Taiga…"_ Aomine whispers, but to Taiga's exasperation, he's still deep in his dreams, the teasing bastard, and like a switch has been flipped, Taiga suddenly becomes all too aware and hypersensitive of each and every contact they're sharing.

There's also the too-late realization that this close, Aomine's scent, which Taiga has always liked — musky and warm and _strong_ — is all too overwhelming, and under the light of the moon, what he can see of Aomine is too unreal, too beautiful, and Aomine's hand is slowly moving down, and he's still making these soft, breathy sounds the way he does when they're making out, and if he doesn't stop doing that, Taiga's going to — 

"Taiga… love you…"

— Oops. Too late. He's already hard.

And a little miffed too, if he's being honest. It's unfair, that Aomine gets to say that for the first time while asleep, to Taiga's _dream_ self. Taiga wants nothing more than to groan and arch into Aomine's unconscious touch and heat, tease him until he wakes as aroused as Taiga is right now, and then keep him on the edge, make him beg until Aomine says those words again, this time awake and conscious, and only then will he make Aomine cum, all while he kisses the words back to Aomine's parted lips.

He _wants_ it so bad _._

Aomine moans this time, a quiet breath of air that ends with a sharply-voiced _'fuck'_ , and Taiga wonders what exactly he's dreaming about, saying these things and being all handsy. If it's about the two of them _,_ surely it would be okay for Taiga to move that last bit of distance between his dick and Aomine's wandering hand, provide relief to his aching length? Or maybe he'll turn to his side so that they're face to face, and rub against Aomine's semi Taiga can feel poking his thigh?

 _Oh,_ so many options to make that wet dream just a little bit real.

But even as Taiga shifts to face Aomine and do just that, he is hit with a sense of wrongness. Aomine may very well be dreaming about him boning Taiga or Taiga boning him _,_ but it's just that — a dream while he's _sleeping_ , and one can't exactly consent to having sex when you're currently catching some Z's. Taiga can't, in good conscience, grope Aomine while said gropee is asleep; Aomine can be forgiven for groping Taiga because apparently he's just touchy-feely like that 24/7.

Taiga can't even find it in himself to wake Aomine up, not when he looks so peaceful curled up against Taiga's side like this, and _whoa,_ Aomine's eyelashes are really long, and there's a beauty mark on the curve of his shoulder, bared by his loose shirt, that Taiga hasn't noticed before and he just wants to lick it and —

 _Fuck,_ this is fast becoming torture, and Taiga can't even resist or escape. He's doomed to lie there in a perpetual state of arousal until morning, or at least until whatever time Aomine deems to be morning.

Although… Taiga _does_ have one hand free. So maybe he can just rub one off? He's so turned on he probably won't last more than a couple of tugs. Aomine won't ever have to know.

He has to quickly muffle a groan against Aomine's silky hair. The idea of it, of him jerking off beside his sleeping boyfriend, feels like the set-up to some kind of weird exhibitionist porn. It shouldn't be making him hornier, because _weird exhibitionist porn_ is more Aomine's thing. But he's now coming to realize that maybe his kink _is_ Aomine _._

Aomine, whose hold on him hasn't loosened up one bit and whose fidgeting has made his knee brush _just so_ against Taiga’s groin, and he’s so horny even that small direct contact makes him gasp, the sound of it startled, excited, and most of all — _loud._

This finally seems to wake Aomine up (of course it does), and Taiga watches in slight apprehension as his eyelids flutter open, eyes blank and confused as they flicker around before finally settling on Taiga’s. 

“Taiga?” Aomine says, and _dammit!_ His name on Aomine’s lips and in that voice deep and gruff from sleep _—_ is it possible to die from sheer arousal? “Wha’s goin’ on? ‘S’not mornin’ yet.”

“It’s nothing,” Taiga says, his own voice rough, “go back to sleep.” He tries to move away but stops, remembering his obvious but yet unnoticed hard-on pressing against Aomine. 

Even in the dark and as groggy as he was, Aomine still notices the aborted movement. “‘S’not nothin’,” he says, and then he notices all the other things too — the tensing of Taiga’s arm he’s using as a pillow, the waves of nervousness Taiga can’t control. With furrowed brows, he pushes himself up and on his elbow. 

He’s also not looking at Taiga anymore. “You _are_ uncomfortable after all, aren’t you? Satsuki used to say, when we were kids — Ah, nevermind, I can go sleep on the couch instead — ”

Now it’s Taiga pushing himself upright. “No, _no no_ it’s not like that. It’s — ‘cause… Well...” Taiga’s eyes had adjusted well in the darkness, and to his dismay, he can clearly see something like _hurt_ flash on Aomine’s face before it’s covered up by the usual irritation. 

“ _You_ said you didn’ mind—”

“And I _don’t._ It’s not that, okay? It’s just — _fuck._ Okay, _c’mere,_ gimme your hand — ”

And then Taiga places said hand over his clothed — and still very much hard — dick.

A beat of silence then, “Oh. _Oh._ Again? But… I just woke up...?” Another pause. Aomine looks and sounds more awake now. “Kagami, d’you have some kind of sleeping fetish thing I should know ab— ”

 _“No!_ It’s not — it was just — You smelled good, okay? Like, really really good? And — your hair’s super soft. I kind of hadn’t noticed before? And you were _so close._ You were hugging the shit out of me. And you were mumbling… _things_ in your sleep. And — and… the moonlight was shining on your skin and okay, so it’s not the first time I’ve seen that, but you were sleeping so adorably and you were so beau—”

Taiga’s on his back again and Aomine is straddling him between one blink and the next. The blankets have migrated to the floor, and there’s a hand firmly slapped over his mouth. 

“Shut up. You should shut the fuck up now, Kagami.” 

The words are growled out through clenched teeth, and a year ago Taiga would have thought Aomine’s _furious,_ but he’d since spent that year learning the lines and angles of Aomine’s face, the cadence of his voice, and he knows with certainty that Aomine is anything but angry right now.

“Are you embarrassed?” Taiga tries to say, but all that comes out is, “Mrrrymmphhrssd?”

Perhaps reading the mischief on his eyes and feeling the smirk on Taiga’s lips, Aomine hisses, “I’m not fucking embarrassed!” The set of his face and pitch of his voice though are screaming defensiveness and yes, definitely embarrassment.

Through all this, Aomine’s hand has remained pressed against Taiga’s cock, a fact both of them remembers only when Aomine shifts forward to cuss him out some more and the sudden motion makes a muffled groan slip past Taiga’s mouth. The look of irritation on Aomine’s face drops entirely, and with a contemplative expression, he backs away and sits himself against Taiga’s thighs. 

“That… stuff… you were talking about earlier,” he says, eyes cast down, “were you thinking of fucking me in my sleep?” At Taiga’s now-audible gasp, Aomine’s eyes dart up and lock with his, and this time it’s Aomine who’s smirking, all pleased and smug. “My, my. How naughty, Taiga.”

Why, oh _why_ does he use Taiga’s name like _that_ in bed? Taiga swallows twice, licks his lips, and then swallows once more. He eventually finds the voice to say, “Well, _you_ were fucking me in _your_ sleep.”

Aomine hums low and deep. He wraps a hand around his own still-covered cock, squeezing it the same time as he does Taiga’s. “Can’t remember who was doing who, but it was a good dream. Maybe if I sleep again, it’ll continue where it left off?” 

Taiga’s hands shoot out and dig into Aomine’s hips to keep him in place. “Don’t even think about it,” he almost snarls.

Aomine just laughs, the bastard, but it’s a breathless sort of sound. He likes it when Taiga gets a little rough, and Taiga likes that Aomine likes it. “Easy there, _Tiger,”_ he says the word in English (the way he’s heard Alex do the last time she came over), and though his tongue curls around the ‘r’ clumsily, it still gets to Taiga. Every. Single. Time.

“I swear to God, Aomine, if you don’t do something, _any_ thing— ”

“Yes, yes,” Aomine says. He lets go and works his shirt off, and now he's leaning forward over Taiga again, searching for the tub of lube on the shelf above the bed. “Where is—? _Ah —_ ”

He breaks off into a startled gasp of pleasure, and Taiga, wanting to hear more, swipes his tongue again across Aomine’s nipple, which was standing perky and teasingly at eye-level. What he gets this time is a deep sigh, and a bite gets Taiga a moan, and a suck a full-bodied shiver, which are all just as good in his opinion.

“Shit... wait — ” Aomine says, but he’s cradling Taiga’s head closer, and his back is arching against Taiga’s hand. He doesn’t say their word, so Taiga continues licking, reveling in the sounds Aomine’s making. And damn _,_ what sounds! Any other day, Taiga thinks he can cum just from listening to it.

That's not the plan tonight though. Because Aomine’s shifting, hand braced against the headboard and hips shimmying, and though Taiga’s too focused with putting hickeys on Aomine’s skin, he knows Aomine’s just rid himself of his boxers and found the lube too, because that wet _schlick-_ ing is unmistakably the sound of Aomine fingering himself open. Which, by the way? Is also up there on Taiga’s list of favorite sounds ever.

"Finally done mauling me, you beast?" Aomine asks when the crick on Taiga’s neck from the angle gets impossible to ignore and he flops back on the bed. He hums a satisfied sound in response; the line of bruises across Aomine’s chest have darkened enough to stand out even against his tan, which he counts as a job well done.

Aomine leans back on the balls of his feet, a hand propped on Taiga’s stomach for balance. And Taiga, well, he’s feeling that familiar whirlwind of emotions again — desire and fondness and warmth and comfort. And if he looks closely, which he is, he can see the same from the curve of Daiki’s smile and the spark on his dark eyes as they stare at Taiga’s. Surely, Daiki can see it on _his_ face too, can feel it through the press of their bodies, the almost-possessive hold he has on Daiki’s waist. Surely Daiki _knows_ , like how Taiga knows too, even without the earlier sleep-induced confession.

But something about tonight makes Taiga feel like not relying on ‘surely’s, makes him want to open his mouth and say, “Daiki, I lo—”

“Get your dick out,” Daiki says.

A strangled laugh bubbles from Taiga’s chest. “Oh, where has the romance gone?” Taiga asks.

“I’ll show you romance. Taiga, I want to make sweet, _sweet love_ to you,” Daiki says, all bright grins and laughing eyes, and Taiga’s breath hitches. “ _Get your dick out,"_ he says again, and Taiga does so eagerly.

It’s slow, their movements towards completion, the pace and thrust of their hips and the slap of skin on skin, with none of the hurried desperation from the blowjob in the shower and the handjob against his bedroom wall. It’s far from _sweet,_ what with the filth pouring out of Daiki’s mouth and the obscene moans Taiga’s making, but each motion of their bodies goes deep, deep, deeper, and there’s pleasure and heat inside Daiki, inside Taiga's chest, between their entwined fingers. Taiga cums first, but it’s Daiki who whines, grinding down on Taiga’s hips, his hand clenching around the head of his cock seemingly in time with the pulsing of Taiga’s, and when he cums, it’s with Taiga’s name on his tongue. 

This — It’s more than enough. It’s great. Fantastic. Even the solid 90kg of sweaty muscles that flattens Taiga to the bed after, he’s come to see as fantastic. The clean-up they’d yet to do though, not so much.

It’s in this blissed-out state that Taiga thinks to ask — “So... all those times before… did you not want to sleep over ‘coz you didn’t want me to know you’re an aggressive cuddlebug?”

An offended snort is snorted against his neck where Daiki has buried his face against. “Oh _fuck you_ , I have a badass reputation to maintain,” he says, voice muffled and sounding already halfway to sleep.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Daiki.”

“Not a _word,_ Taiga. I mean it.”

“Yes, yes.”

There’s silence as their breaths even out, when Taiga gropes for his discarded boxers and does a quick wipedown of them both, when Daiki finally gets off and settles on his side again. He’s facing Taiga this time though, and there’s no space between them, their limbs once again wrapped around each other. His eyes are closed, long eyelashes Taiga hadn’t really noticed before fanning over his cheeks.

He’s awake though, Taiga knows. So when Daiki tells him the L word (as in not ' _l_ _ike’_ ) this time, Taiga doesn’t hesitate to kiss him, a quick press of lips before he responds in kind.

**

That morning, Taiga wakes up not from his alarm clock, nor with a kiss, but with a mind-numbingly good blowjob. Only after does Daiki kiss him, and Taiga complains and whines about his foul-as-hell breath. Daiki slaps his butt and demands breakfast, but then he pushes Taiga on the couch and fucks him there, after which they eat chewy bacon and cold, runny eggs.

All in all, a perfect start to a perfect day.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 on lockdown. Life's been busy this past year, and I haven't had the time nor the motivation to write anything. In the next 3 or so weeks though, I'll have plenty of the first, so we'll see what that does to my motivation LMAO. Kidding aside, hope everyone's staying home and/or staying safe! <3


End file.
